Summer At Winterfell
by redcandle
Summary: Theon adjusts to life with the Starks at Winterfell. Set shortly after the Greyjoy Rebellion.


"But it's isummer/i," Theon exclaimed, incredulous.

"If often snows here during summertime," Lord Stark said, unsmiling. "Much milder than in winter, of course."

Theon was aghast. Lord Stark considered that storm raging outside imild/i? He would have called it the worst snow storm he'd experienced in his eleven years.

"It is not truly summer yet," Lady Stark said. She did not smile either, though she sounded sympathetic. "This is the last of the spring storms."

Theon could not conceal his dismay. He supposed it was warm enough in the castle – truthfully the chamber the Starks had given him was far warmer and cozier than his room at Pyke – but he was sick of having to bundle up in half a dozen layers of wool and furs to go outside. He could go riding anytime he pleased – provided he did not have lessons with the maester – and he found he enjoyed it far more than the cursory riding lessons he'd had at home.

"Can Jon and I play in the godswood?" Robb asked. "Theon, too," he added.

"Maybe," Lady Stark answered her son, looking at him with a fondness that made Theon miss his own lady mother. "If you can write all the letters of the alphabet…"

"I know all my letters," Robb insisted. "Jon does too."

"We shall see if Maester Luwin agrees," Lady Stark said, but she was smiling.

The Starks adored their six year old heir and so did everyone else in the castle. Theon wanted to hate Robb Stark, but the boy believed his parents when they told him that Theon was his new foster brother. Everybody else knew Theon was really a hostage being held at Winterfell so his lord father would not rebel against the crown a second time.

"I know too," chimed Sansa. Her mouth and fingers were sticky with honey.

"You don't," Robb said to her.

Sansa sang the little rhyme Maester Luwin had taught his charges to help them remember the alphabet.

It never failed to surprise Theon every time he saw his stern-faced captor smile, as Lord Stark smiled now at his daughter. Eddard Stark seemed like a different man entirely when he was with his family.

"You only know the words," Robb accused his sister, "You don't know what they mean."

"I do," she insisted. She sang the rhyme again.

Sansa was only three but Theon wanted to hate her too. She wore pretty little dresses that she kept spotless and she smiled at everyone and recited pleasantries. She was as different as could be from his sister Asha, who wore chainmail and scowled a lot.

"Very good, Sansa," Lady Stark said. She picked up an embroidered cloth and began to wipe Sansa's face free of jam and honey. "Robb, you may play for one hour - then you belong to Maester Luwin for the rest of the morning."

Robb scooted out of his chair before his mother was even done speaking. "I'll be Symeon Star-eyes," he shouted.

"You're always the hero," complained Jon Snow. Snow was Lord Stark's bastard son. He was the same age as Robb but sullen and unfriendly. Theon hated him.

Robb was already dashing from the room, and Snow sprinted after him, still complaining. Sansa seized the half-eaten scones from their plates. Theon passed her the jam jar and smiled as he watched her smother the scones with blackberry jam.

"Aren't you going with them, Theon?" asked Lady Stark.

Theon didn't want to be outside in this storm. Was Lady Stark ordering him to go? He'd have to go then. He tried to think of an excuse. "May I finish my breakfast first, my lady?"

"Of course."

Theon ate slowly.

"Should you have let the boys delay their lessons to play, Cat?" Lord Stark asked his wife.

Lady Stark laughed lightly. "We could make them sit in Maester Luwin's tower, Ned, but they would be building snow forts in their minds. In an hour they should have had enough of the cold and be eager to sit by the fire and listen to the maester."

A serving woman entered the room carrying the youngest Stark child, the infant girl Arya. She was bawling, just like almost every other time Theon had seen her. "I can't get her to stop, m'lady. I think she's hungry."

Lady Stark unlaced her bodice and held her daughter to her breasts. The babe stopped wailing and started suckling greedily. Theon had thought that all ladies gave their babes to wetnurses, but he supposed a great lady like Lady Stark could suckle her own babe if she wanted.

Lord Stark didn't seem to mind. He was watching his wife and daughter in a way Theon had never seen his own father watch his mother. "You're so beautiful, Cat."

"There's no need to flatter me like a minstrel wooing a maid, Eddard Stark," Lady Stark replied, but she seemed pleased.

"It's not flattery if it's the truth." Lord Stark rose from his seat and bent to kiss his lady. "I should be back after noon."

"He's still going to inspect the town in this weather?" Theon blurted, after Lord Stark had departed.

"This weather is not so bad for the North." Lady Stark did not look away from the babe in her arms. "It will be far worse in the winter."

Maester Luwin said this coming summer would be a long one. Theon did not know how long Lord Stark intended to keep him hostage. Maybe he would be gone before next winter – one way or another. Theon felt weak and childish but he missed his mother so he gave voice to the fears that had nagged him since he first set sail for Winterfell.

"My lady, what if…" Theon hesitated.

Lady Stark looked up, waiting for him to continue.

"My father's never been fond of me. Asha is his favorite. What if he doesn't care that I'm here?" Unspoken was his real question: what if Lord Balon rebelled again?

"That won't happen," Lady Stark replied. "You are his only son and heir now, with your brothers dead. You are precious to him."

It was true that he was the heir to Pyke. It mattered not that Asha was Lord Balon's favorite; she was only a girl and would not be inheriting Pyke. Even if his father did not love him, he ineeded/i him. He wouldn't do anything to cause Lord Stark to chop off Theon's head.

"My tummy hurts," Sansa said. She looked as if she might be sick.

"That's what comes of eating too much, my love," her mother told her.

Theon eagerly seized the chance to avoid having to join Robb out in the snow. "I could take her to Maester Luwin, my lady," he offered.

"There's naught the maester can do for an overly full stomach, but very well. Thank you, Theon."

Theon felt warm. He took Sansa by the hand. "Let's go."

Maybe he didn't have to hate the Starks and Winterfell.


End file.
